The Return of the Ruined Chaebol's Third-Generation Heir - Chapter 12

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Regression of a Fallen Chaebol Third-Generation Heir — Episode 12
“You made it?”
At Kim Seok-jun’s residence in Seongbuk-dong, he greeted me with barely concealed delight the moment I arrived.
I offered a light bow and settled onto the sofa across from him.
“Well then, a month has passed. Did you complete the assignment I gave you?”
Kim Seok-jun’s eyes sparkled with curiosity.
Instead of answering, I withdrew a white envelope from my pocket and placed it on the table.
“Here it is.”
Kim Seok-jun’s lips curved upward as he reached for the envelope.
“Let’s see—is it cash or a check?”
He opened the envelope and pulled out its contents.
But what lay in his hands was not a stack of bills, but a single sheet of A4 paper and a bank account book.
“…What is this?”
“One million won.”
“This paper is?”
“Read it.”
Kim Seok-jun read through the document with a puzzled expression.
It was a portfolio printout showing the interim standings of the Mock Investment Competition that would close tomorrow.
[15th National High School Mock Investment Competition, sponsored by Future Securities]
[Current Ranking: 1st Place (Team Name: The Textbook of Returns)]
[Cumulative Return on Investment: +42.5%]
Kim Seok-jun’s expression shifted rapidly—from bewilderment to surprise, and then to intrigue.
He set down the paper and looked at me.
“I think I need an explanation.”
“It’s simple. I formed a team with some friends and entered the competition. We’re currently in an overwhelming first place.”
I gave him a brief account of the past month.
Assembling the team members, constructing the portfolio, capitalizing on typhoon-themed stocks to boost returns—the entire process.
“When the market closes tomorrow, the championship is secured. The grand prize is three million won. Since there are three team members, my share comes to exactly one million won.”
As I spoke, Kim Seok-jun listened intently without a word, his chin resting on his hand.
When my explanation concluded,
“Ha ha ha!”
Kim Seok-jun threw back his head and laughed heartily.
“Right, the money hasn’t reached your hands yet, but it’s as good as earned. Precise.”
“And what’s behind that is my stock account. I’ve grown five million won of seed money into nine million won. Counting the scholarship too, I’ve earned five million won in just one month.”
At my words, Kim Seok-jun checked the balance shown on the account and nodded with a satisfied smile.
“That alone would have been enough, wouldn’t it?”
“That’s because I used my own pocket money as seed capital. I was worried you might not recognize it. Call it a form of risk hedging.”
“Ha ha ha—you used the competition itself as a risk mitigation strategy?”
Kim Seok-jun laughed for a while before dropping his smile and asking sharply.
“Then tell me—why this method specifically? To earn a mere million won, you spent a month wracking your brain in a competition? It seems terribly inefficient and exhausting.”
“Because I thought it’s what you wanted.”
“What I wanted?”
“Yes. If the objective was simply to bring me one million won, I could’ve sold any number of objects lying around the house. Or saved up my allowance.”
I met Kim Seok-jun’s gaze directly.
“But I believed you didn’t want the money itself—you wanted me to prove my ability. The process of creating something from nothing with my own strength, my own mind, by moving people.”
Kim Seok-jun’s expression shifted to one of feigned surprise.
Then he nodded.
“You’re certainly different from others. I’ll acknowledge that.”
He studied me with admiring eyes.
“You’re right. What I wanted wasn’t the money itself, but the process—how you’d earn it. But you’ve surpassed my expectations, reaching an even higher dimension.”
Kim Seok-jun clicked his tongue in appreciation.
“I thought at best you’d hustle among friends—buying cheap and selling dear. But to think you’d use the system itself to set the game…”
‘That’s not a bad thing either.’
I smiled inwardly.
“Well then, since you’ve exceeded my expectations on this assignment, I suppose I owe you a gift.”
Kim Seok-jun adjusted his posture and lowered his voice.
“There’s been turbulence inside Seonjin Group. Word has it your mother recently acquired ten used ships.”
“Is that so?”
I’d dropped hints to Mother while watching the news, but it seems she caught on to it properly.
“Because of that, Kang Tae-yong of Seonjin Motors and Kang Byeong-chul of Seonjin Aluminum have been meeting quite frequently. Byeong-chul needs ships, and Tae-yong needs justification. They’re conspiring to tear apart the company.”
I already knew that Kang Byeong-chul would attack Seonjin before long—it had happened in my previous life.
‘So Tae-yong was the one stirring the pot.’
Or rather, to be precise, their interests simply aligned. It wasn’t as though Kang Byeong-chul needed much prodding.
Having it confirmed through Kim Seok-jun’s mouth made it clearer.
“Don’t worry. Your mother’s company doesn’t have informants working for me. It’s just information I’ve picked up from various business contacts I happen to know.”
At my troubled expression, Kim Seok-jun offered this reassurance. His eyes seemed sincere.
“I’m not concerned. Rather, knowing you have this information gives me more confidence.”
Kim Seok-jun nodded, seemingly satisfied.
“That much was the gift.”
Kim Seok-jun leaned toward me.
His gaze became serious.
“Now, let’s discuss the main matter. You’ve passed the assignment, so I must honor my promise. Tell me what you want. What can I do to help you?”
From the beginning, the condition was that Kim Seok-jun would assist me.
I answered without hesitation.
“Create a company for me.”
“…What?”
Kim Seok-jun’s eyes widened.
I spoke calmly, yet with conviction, and repeated myself.
“I need an investment company whose real owner remains hidden.”

* * *
“You called for me, sir?”
The study door opened, and a man in a neat suit entered.
He was Kim Seok-jun’s personal Asset Manager, who had overseen his private wealth for over a decade.
Kim Seok-jun folded the newspaper he’d been reading and asked.
“How would one go about establishing an investment company these days?”
“…An investment company, sir?”
The Asset Manager’s eyes went wide.
Kim Seok-jun had long since retired from active business. He’d devoted himself primarily to the safe growth of assets through bonds and real estate. For him to suddenly speak of setting up a company was entirely unexpected.
“Why—is it not possible?”
“Oh, no, not at all. It’s simply surprising.”
The Asset Manager quickly gathered his thoughts.
“It depends on the purpose, but if you’re looking to manage your personal funds, a Family Office structure would be ideal.”
“A Family Office.”
“Yes, sir. The establishment process is relatively straightforward, and above all, it operates with no outside interference—managing only your family’s assets. It’s excellent for maintaining privacy.”
Kim Seok-jun stroked his chin.
“Privacy, eh? That’s good. Then let’s proceed with that.”
Kim Seok-jun leaned forward and lowered his voice.
“But what if you wanted to hide who the true owner is? How would that be done?”
“The true owner…?”
“Right. To be precise, it should appear to outsiders as my own Family Office, but internally—both on paper and in reality—there should be a different true owner.”
The Asset Manager considered for a moment, then spoke carefully.
“…In such a case, the standard approach would be to use a tax haven.”
“Explain.”
“You would first establish a Paper Company in a jurisdiction like the Cayman Islands. Then, the investment company set up in Korea would have a structure where that Paper Company holds 51% of the equity and you hold 49%.”
The Asset Manager drew an imaginary circle with his fingers.
“This way, it appears externally as your company with you as a major shareholder, but actual management rights reside with the Paper Company holding 51%. If you keep the owner of that Paper Company hidden, no one in Korea can trace the real owner.”
It was perfect.
This was precisely the corporate structure Kang Seon-woo wanted—one where his name wouldn’t be exposed.
“Not bad. Let’s proceed that way. Set up the company.”
“Understood, sir. Though, if I may ask…”
The Asset Manager regarded Kim Seok-jun with careful eyes.
“Are you planning to give this to your son?”
“My son?”
Kim Seok-jun sat blank for a moment, then burst into hearty laughter.
“Ha ha ha! A son, yes. We’ll call it that.”
Since he’d asked me to become his guardian of sorts, it wasn’t a bad characterization. Besides, there was no need to laboriously explain everything to the Asset Manager.
“In any case, how long will it take?”
“Including the establishment of the foreign corporation…generally we should plan for about two months.”
“Too slow. One month.”
“One month? That’s far too tight. There are document reviews and…”
“With your capabilities, I’m sure it’s possible. Cost is no object—just finish it in the shortest timeframe.”
At Kim Seok-jun’s firm tone, the Asset Manager swallowed hard.
“…I’ll do my best. I’ll accelerate the process as much as possible.”
“Good. And one more thing.”
Kim Seok-jun opened a drawer and tossed out a bank account book.
“That money I set aside separately before—convert all of it to cash and have it ready.”
“That fund, sir? It should be quite substantial.”
“No matter. It’ll be ammunition for that boy to spend. Best to have it well-stocked.”
“Understood, sir.”
The Asset Manager bowed and left the room.
The study fell quiet once more.
Kim Seok-jun turned his chair to gaze out the window.
Through the Seongbuk-dong hillside, Seoul’s skyline spread before him in a single panoramic view.
—Why establish an investment company? Even if you do nothing, Seonjin will…
—By the time I come of age, all that will remain of Seonjin is a ravaged husk picked to pieces. That’s why I have to act now, and for defense, I need capital.
—Are you confident of success? Investment isn’t an easy thing.
—I don’t take it lightly. That’s why I need you.
He recalled Seon-woo, who had voiced his demands with such boldness.
The boy possessed the same decisive will as Kang Man-ho, who’d once come to him demanding employment outright.
‘This could be interesting.’
He’d thought he was resigned to spending his twilight years pondering in obscurity, but here was something that made his heart race once more.
Kim Seok-jun smiled, thinking of Seon-woo.

* * *
Two weeks later, Seongbuk-dong. Kim Seok-jun’s residence.
“Welcome. I called you here because I have something to tell you.”
“I’ve been waiting.”
“Ha ha ha—you’ve precious little patience, it seems.”
Kim Seok-jun laughed broadly, but I swallowed a bitter smile inwardly.
How could I have patience?
For the past two weeks, I’d been pretending to attend school while my mind churned through plans and strategies for the ventures ahead. I’d scarcely slept.
“Look at this.”
Kim Seok-jun casually tossed a document envelope onto the table.
“May I read it?”
“Of course.”
I opened the envelope and withdrew the documents.
At the front of the thick sheaf was a summary containing various plans.
“We’re proceeding according to that plan. The establishment isn’t quite finalized yet, but the name is…”
[SJ Holdings]
“We settled on SJ Holdings—with SJ standing for Seonjin, of course. But since it’s also my initials, outsiders will be all the more confused.”
I paged through the documents, my admiration growing quietly.
‘A Family Office. An excellent choice.’
A Family Office.
A private investment firm exclusively managing the assets of ultra-high-net-worth families.
Unlike ordinary funds or venture capital firms, it operates free from financial regulatory oversight and has almost no disclosure obligations. Most importantly, since it accepts no outside capital and operates purely on its own funds, the owner can be kept thoroughly concealed.
“Looking at the equity structure, I hold 49% and the remaining 51% is held by a Paper Company established in the Cayman Islands. Of course, if you prefer, I could transfer my stake there as well.”
“Not at all. Actually, this structure is better. You should have something to gain as well.”
Kim Seok-jun smiled with interest at my response.
“You’re quite exceptional. How do you think ahead to such things?”
“…”
“Right. That’s what you’ll need going forward, no matter what you do. If someone helps you and gains nothing themselves, they’ll plant a knife in your back. A Community of Interests provides the justification for safety.”
I nodded in agreement.
There’s no free lunch in this world. The more deeply Kim Seok-jun waded into this game, the more powerful an ally he became for me.
“The Paper Company you’ll establish in the Cayman Islands—it’s 100% your company. We’ll need your personal details to file it. What name would you like?”
“May I choose?”
“Of course.”
I uncapped a pen and wrote the company name on the document. Reborn Capital.
It meant being born anew—a name that fit me perfectly in this moment.
“That aside, you have a Family Office, but how will you actually operate it? An empty shell is useless.”
“That’s precisely what I meant to discuss with you.”
I swallowed and broached the real topic.
“Lend me money.”
“Ha ha ha.”
Kim Seok-jun laughed outright, as though he’d anticipated this.
“I’m sorry. Talking with you is so unbounded that I can’t help but laugh. Lend you money?”
“A company needs seed capital to operate.”
“Then what’s your collateral? Banks don’t lend without collateral, and what could you possibly put up to me?”
“My collateral is my future.”
At my answer, Kim Seok-jun’s brow twitched slightly.
“Your future?”
“Yes. If my future goes well, you’ll earn substantial returns through this company. And should I fail, you won’t earn anything either.”
“Hm.”
“Bet on my potential.”
Kim Seok-jun clicked his tongue as if in disbelief.
“You complete one assignment and already you’re demanding quite a lot.”
Yet even as he said it, a brief smile played at his lips.
“So is this money for you to borrow, and through it, I’m to guide you onto the proper path, yes?”
“That’s correct.”
“The logic is sound, but I cannot lend you the money.”
Kim Seok-jun drew a firm line.
“Collateral doesn’t look to the future. It looks to present value. No matter how bright your future may be, if it can’t be converted to cash right now, it holds no value as collateral.”
Kim Seok-jun’s words made my head throb.
‘Just as I thought—mere words won’t sway this man.’
One mountain after another. The company exists, but there’s no capital to run it.
The hundred thousand won from the competition prize. The assets I’d cultivated separately.
It’s nowhere near enough.
‘What do I do?’
Do I have to keep grinding to build capital? That would take far too long.
It was then.
“Instead.”
Kim Seok-jun opened a drawer and pulled out a document, sliding it across the table.
“I’ll give you this money.”
“…Pardon?”
I picked up the document with a bewildered expression.
It was a Bank Balance Certificate.
The moment I saw the figure printed there, I doubted my own eyes.
[Balance: 20,000,000,000 won]
One, ten, hundred, thousand, ten million…
“Twenty billion won?”
My breath caught.
Not lending—giving?
I lifted my head to look at Kim Seok-jun, and he nodded, speaking.
“It’s the money your grandfather entrusted to me.”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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